


glacial

by Relvich



Category: FanganAcademy Discord Roleplay, The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Fangan Ronpa: Fangan Academy, Gen, Monsters, Original Archivist, Original Character(s), Original Distortion, Original Vast Avatar, Past Character Death, Swearing, The power of friendship, archivist!rin, but he got better! as well as one gets better in tma, but he has friends so he's okay, distortion!junpei, for those of you who're here from fanganacademy lol, he being merlin, he just ruminates on where he died a lot in this, he's a dweebus, kind of melancholy but it ends with friend banter, kind of?, mentions of the buried as a motif, prose, reflections, the lonely tries to eat a vast avatar and he is not happy about it, the magnus archives au, vast!merlin, what tags those are huh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23962060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Relvich/pseuds/Relvich
Summary: he is where the everything meets the nothing. that's who he Is. the endless bounds, the voidseasky.the nothing no-one One Alone wants to meet him, back.
Relationships: Chun Meilin | Merlin Chun & Ono Junpei (Fangan Academy), Chun Meilin | Merlin Chun & Sasaki Rin (Fangan Academy)
Kudos: 3
Collections: Crossover Collection Party





	glacial

it’s cold, here. it always is. he chooses to come here, so it’s his fault. but…

here is where he is united with the Vast there is nothing tooclose and yet he still cannotbreathe except,

he can, actually. this is where he belongs and this is where his body would’ve sunk, if it’d been allowed to. he’s lucky there’s an iceberg here now for his rest. usually he just has to hover above the waves and let himself fall forever and nowhere and watch the sky turn around him ever after until the sun bursts. he can only _assume_ he’ll be around when the sun bursts. his God had been very clear with him that he was not allowed to die, the perpetual roiling Fear that he was. his very _existence_ fed the unfathomable reaches and it was not so willing to let go of a good meal. he is terrified, always. it is a good trait in an avatar when the boundlessness of his emotion lends to the boundlessness of his hunger, to the endlessness of his power.

…his fear oft fed into the others, though. he is married to everdarkness and faraway bright-spots of gas and ice and rock and to the depths of the waters beneath him and to the blue skies above and the clouds and the _lightning_ and he _revels_ in it, lets his puny self meld with the everything and the _nothing_ where he is, where he _lives._ where he unlives, he guesses, actually. he is sitting atop his glacial tombstone, after all, right now. he curls into himself, lets himself become smaller ~~as if he can become truly _small,_ as if he can escape where his mind’s been expanded to match the nonstop explosion of the universe~~, lets himself take comfort in the false heat of his corpsebody. he still feels warm, when he isn’t using his powers. if he huddles together with himself he can feel it radiate so softly, so softly…

the cold still penetrates, though. from the ice below him, from the sea below the ice, from the depths of topography below that, negative space filled with life and salt and his humanity. it still hits him in waves, reaching deeper and deeper into his flesh and his soul and it… _permeates_ him. he has visited the void of space countless times, this wintry slab of frozen shouldn’t… it should make him…

_this is where he lives, this is where he belongs, this is where he is united with the Vast there is nothing tooclose and yet he cannotbreathe and yet and yet and yet-_

he opens his eyes and he is met by fog.

_no._

he is already eaten, he _refuses_ this master, has been refusing this master since _before_ he was voidfleshskyboundsiren. it dogs him to this day, ~~it was not so willing to give up a good meal~~ and real, visceral terror rises in him quicker than he falls. he is alone here. there is overlap, between these two mistresses, he knows that. he Knows that, though that is not his domain.

but he. _refuses._ to belong to nothing to no-one to _no-one to n̸̰̆o̷̻̾ẗ̸̬́h̷͓͋i̶͕̽ṉ̵̏g̷̼̈-̸̳̂_

he Falls. through the ice through the water that would have become his resting place before he would have been tossed forevermore as a doll-toy to the sea, then he is _up,_ falling through air and then through shitty cork ceiling tiles and into a chair left out for him near always. there is no one in it and usually he would’ve known that before he reached it, empty space is his domain. but now he is simply lucky. he counts out oh-so quiet rhythms in his head, breathing silent but labored. too quick.

“Hello, Merlin.”

“…”

“That bad, huh?”

“The precipitation that hugs close to my waves should know better than to obscure the view of the endless.”

“If you wish to avoid the fog, perhaps you should entertain yourself more often in the void of space,” they say, amusement clinging to their voice that makes him shrink in on himself ~~small, he must become _small- no, he is not human and twelve anymore,_ no,~~ “…You okay?”

“The _fog,”_ he growls, “should learn not to encroach on that which already belongs to the Falling Titan.”

“‘Lin…” Rin, The Archivist sighs, “You know they weave and overlap. …I’m surprised the Web doesn’t want you, in honesty. You fall in the-”

“Puns and flattery will get you nowhere today.”

“You _fall_ in the middle of their venn diagram.” They finish, glaring, but it is soft. It is not the gaze that kills their kind.

“…I know.”

“Do you now? That’s my job.”

“Oh? You gettin’ paid?”

“Thanks to your most recent forgery, more than I maybe should, yes.”

he smiles. already the cold recedes more as they speak, as they banter. like friends.

they _are_ friends. that is why he refuses the Lonely. he _does not_ belong to no-one. he belongs to their motley group of friends, to this tiny space they’ve carved out of their unforgiving world. the irony does not escape them.

“You’re welcome. I’m here to fuck over Magnus any day of the week.”

“As one might expect, from the Avatar of the Whore.”

a door opens. that who is the distortion who is Jun who is and isn’t echoes the words around the hallways and bounce them through the door of his mouth, and Merlin’s grin grows a little wider.

“Oh shit, you caught me.”

“These _are_ my halls, little hurricane. Like a mouse, you are, in these archives.”

“You a cat now?”

“Was I ever not? Or perhaps I ever will not be. Never and always have been.”

“You can say that about your entire you.”

_“Am_ I a ‘you?’”

“You’re certainly not _me.”_

their grins are monstrous and mirrored.

he is in an archive basement, below ground and stuffed the air is tooclose he cannotbreathe,

but he doesn’t… _need to_ anyway. what has equipped him for the titan has left him just as prepared for - for,

for Home.

for what were people and monsters if not universes in miniature, ever expanding and evolving and reworking until the sun of their life bursts?

this little, oh-so tiny bubble…

it was enough.

he isn’t cold anymore. beneath the ground in this dank basement.

it isn’t cold here.

it never is.


End file.
